


We Protect Those Who Cannot Protect Themselves

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt Derek, Hurt Derek Hale, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Light Angst, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), One Shot, Other, Protective Chris Argent, Short One Shot, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: When Derek gets hurt, the last person he expects to help him is Chris Argent.
Relationships: Chris Argent & Derek Hale
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85





	We Protect Those Who Cannot Protect Themselves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ditheringmind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ditheringmind/gifts).



Derek stepped into the opening behind the old warehouse. The space was lit by the flickering light of the old streetlamp. The walls of the warehouse were made of corrugated iron, the rippling metal coloured orange and green with rust. The black paint of the company’s logo had faded with time, leaving only part of the lettering still on the wall. The ground was covered in concrete, the layer of undisturbed dirt and dust suggesting that no one had been there.

The silence set him on edge.

His heart beat against his ribs as he scanned his surroundings.

He didn’t hear the gunshot, but he felt the bullet tear through his side. The moment of shock was quickly washed away as the searing pain flooded his veins like lava.

He cried out as he doubled over. His legs gave out beneath him as he collapsed to the ground.

He held his hand to his side, feeling streams of warm blood coat his hand and soak his shirt.

Tears welled in his eyes as he looked down, lifting his hand enough to see the shimmers of blue among the smears of red.

 _Wolfsbane_.

He felt his stomach twist, a wave of bile burning at his throat as he swallowed hard.

He looked across the ground to where a crate sat, blanketed in shadows. The world spun as he noticed the outstretched hand that lay, unmoving, on the ground. His eyes fell upon the black ink of the tattoo on their wrist, noticing the symbol of another pack.

“No,” he whispered under his breath, his vision blurring as tears pricked his eyes.

 _I have to get out of here_.

He forced himself to his knees, but his legs slid out from beneath him. He winced as he used his free hand to pull himself across the concrete.

Leather boots stirred the dirt as the hunter stepped into the light.

Derek looked up, his eyes flashing red with power.

“So this is what’s come of the mighty Hale family?” the hunter said mockingly. “An alpha with no pack. A coward crawling on his hands and knees. How the mighty have fallen.”

Derek bit back a retort.

The wolfsbane had taken its toll on him; he didn’t have the strength to fight back.

The hunter shook their head, feigning pity. They lifted their gun, aiming the barrel at Derek’s head.

Derek held his gaze defiantly.

There was a second click, making the hunter straighten.

“Drop the gun,” a familiar voice ordered.

“Have you lost your mind?” the hunter said, their voice tense and edged with anger.

“I won’t say it again,” Chris warned.

“He’s a Hale,” the hunter argued. “He’s a werewolf.”

“He’s a friend,” Chris corrected. “And I’m not going to let you kill him.”

“You’ve gone mad in your old age, Argent,” the hunter taunted, lowing the barrel of their gun slightly. “Coming to the defence of a werewolf... You’re a disgrace to your family name.”

“You won’t get under my skin, Jaeger,” Chris said, his voice calm and level. “As for my ‘old age’, I still got the jump on you, didn’t I?”

“Maybe, but how good are your reflexes, old man?”

The hunter raised his gun, taking aim at Derek.

Chris swung his arm, the butt of his gun slamming into the side of the hunters head as he pistol whipped them.

The hunter collapsed to the ground, their unconscious body hitting the concrete with a heavy _thud_. A thin rivulet of blood trickled down the side of their face from where Chris’ pistol had left a cut on the hunter’s forehead.

Chris holstered his gun and knelt down beside the unconscious hunter. He picked up their rifle and slid the bolt back, releasing one of the bullets. He pocketed it before sliding the strap over his shoulder and shrugging the gun onto his back. He stepped over to Derek’s side.

The alpha was ghostly pale, the glow of his eyes flickering as he struggled to hold onto his last ounce of strength.

Black blood mingled with red as it pooled across the concrete.

“Come on,” Chris said, his voice softening slightly as he lifted Derek’s arm over his shoulders and pulled the man to his feet.

He half-carried half-dragged Derek over to the four wheel drive that was parked around the corner of the old warehouse.

He pulled open the back doors and helped Derek into the back of the car.

“What are you even doing here?” Chris asked.

“I was meant to meet someone,” Derek answered, his voice broken as he winced in pain. His breaths were shallow and shaky. HIs head lolled to the side as he struggled to stay awake. “An old family friend. She said she was being hunted and needed help. But your friend got to her before I did. What were you doing here?”

“Following you,” Chris admitted. “I heard there was another hunter in town and when I went to warn you, you were already on your way here, so I followed you.”

Chris set the rifle down in the back of the car and pulled forward a first aid kit, reaching inside for scissors, a small tray and a lighter.

He pulled the bullet out of his jacket pocket, using the scissors to scrape the concentrated wolfsbane out of the casing and onto the small tray. He lifted up the side of Derek’s blood-soaked shirt, assessing the wound.

There was a bleeding wound where the bullet had pierced his skin. The coursing red blood intermingled with streams of black as his body tried to purge the wolfsbane. Veins of black spread outwards from the wound, reaching across his stomach and up his ribs, edging closer and closer to his heart.

“I’ve got to do this quick,” Chris said. “But it’s going to hurt like hell.”

“A year ago, you would have jumped at the chance to kill me,” Derek said, watching as Chris picked up the lighter. “If you had found me wounded, you would have finished the job.”

“Things change,” was all Chris said.

He lowered the flickering flame to the pile of wolfsbane, watching it ignite. Sparks flew about, a thin wis of blue smoke rising from the pile.

Chris waited for the flames to die out, quickly sweeping the wolfsbane into his hand and – without warning – pressing it into Derek’s wound.

Derek cried out, his screams tearing at his throat.

His body tensed as his agony tore through his body, igniting every nerve. He thrashed around, tears streaming down his face.

It felt like an eternity before the pain finally subsided.

Derek stilled, still shaking slightly. He was out of breath and pale, but the colour was slowly returning to his face.

Chris gave him a moment before sitting him up again. He reached into the first aid kit and pulled out gauze, tape, and sterilising wipes. He cleaned the wound and dressed it, careful not to hurt Derek.

When Derek spoke, his voice was quiet. “Why did you save me?”

Chris didn’t answer. His brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Derek in confusion.

Derek’s voice steadied out. “Whatever happened to ‘We hunt those who hunt us’?”

“Allison rewrote the code,” Chris replied, a glimmer of pain passing through his eyes as he said his daughter’s name. “Nous protègons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protèger eux-měmes.”

“We protect those who cannot protect themselves,” Derek translated, a hint of admiration in his voice.

“You’re not my enemy, Derek. Not anymore.”

Derek offered him a weak smile, trying to hide the tears that welled in his eyes, lit by the faded glow of the flickering streetlight.

Chris smiled back at him, reaching out and gently setting his hand on the young man’s shoulder.

He stepped back.

“Argent,” Derek called after him.

Chris turned back to him.

“Thank you.”

Chris offered him another friendly smile.


End file.
